


Running Out Of Time

by Rumaan



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Speed AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6980593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/pseuds/Rumaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emerson was meant to be dead. He wasn't meant to be planting bombs on buses in an elaborate revenge scheme. Speed AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Out Of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museumofflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museumofflight/gifts).



> A belated birthday present for the lovely Erin who has wanted a Bellarke Speed AU for a while.

Clarke watched in horror as the bus blew up, the hot air from the blast washing over her face, clearing away any remnants of her hangover from last night.

Only a headache was meant to tar today. Nothing else was meant to touch it – certainly not a bus blowing up.

_Anya_ , she thought frantically as realisation of what had happened hit her suddenly.

“Anya!” she screamed as she ran after the macabre sight of the burning shell of a bus that was still moving. The heat was too intense for her to get close and it wasn’t as if the bus driver would’ve survived, but that didn’t stop Clarke from running alongside checking to see if Anya could miraculously be rescued somehow.

Anya who’d just got her coffee alongside Clarke with her usual surly greeting and scowl.

Winded, Clarke pulled up and bent over, sucking in deep breaths as her hands shook. The jarring sound of a ringing payphone penetrated her numb thoughts and she looked around in confusion. There were very few payphones left these days. No one needed them in this age of cell phones.

Walking over dazedly, Clarke picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello, Clarke. Did you like my present?” A horribly familiar voice asked.

It wasn’t possible. It was just yesterday that she and Lincoln had received their medals of valour for defeating Carl Emerson’s plot to hold an elevator full of people to ransom. In desperation to escape, Emerson had held Lincoln prisoner and Clarke had been reduced to shooting her partner in the shoulder. They had thought Emerson had died in the ensuing explosion, his body disintegrating in the heat.

“Emerson,” she replied with dread filling her stomach.

“You ruined my plans, Clarke. Took away a future I had been building towards for a long time.”

“So you blow up a bus just because the driver was an acquaintance?”

“That’s the first bomb. There’s another bus rigged waiting to explode in the middle of LA’s rush hour.”

Closing her eyes in resignation, Clarke mouthed the words she knew he wanted to hear. “Where is it?”

“Oh, I’m not going to make it that easy for you. It’s bus 2525. You know that bus, don’t you Clarke?” he asked smugly, and she did. It was the route Raven drove part-time as she put herself through UCLA. She would be working today and Emerson obviously knew enough about Clarke to know just where to hit her in revenge.

“As soon as it hits 50mph on the freeway the bomb will be armed,” Emerson continued. “Once it drops below that speed, it will explode.”

“What do you want?”

“My money. All $10m worth. You need to get moving, Clarke, you don’t have much time.”

The dead tone sounded and dropping the receiver, Clarke sprinted back to her jeep. It would be no use trying to call Raven. She wasn’t allowed her phone when on duty, but luckily Clarke knew where to look for her. She gunned her car’s engine and sped off down the street, tires squealing.

\---------

Of course the bus was already on the freeway when Clarke sighted it. It was Murphy’s Law like that. Clarke chased it down in her jeep, finally managing to get alongside the bus and inching her way up to where Raven was driving. Beeping like a maniac, she managed to get Raven’s attention at last but when she looked at her speedometer, her heart sank. They were going at 60mph. Emerson’s bomb was armed.

“Clarke?! What the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to get me fired?” Raven asked, shouting out her window. Clarke could see the bus’ passengers staring out the window in shock at her behaviour.

“There’s a bomb on your bus,” she yelled back.

“What? I can’t hear you?”

“A bomb. There’s a bomb on your bus.”

The way Raven’s mouth went slack jawed and the colour rushed out of her face, Clarke knew she had heard her this time. The bus began to fall back and Clarke swore under her breath. Easing off the gas, she made her away alongside Raven once more.

“Raven, you need to speed up,” she shouted. “You cannot go below 50mph. Do you understand?”

With wide and strained eyes, Raven nodded in acknowledgement.  Colour was back in her friend’s cheeks as was the steely eyed look of determination she got when she was resolute in not allowing life to beat her down. Clarke let out a sigh of relief as the bus began to pick up speed once more. Now, she just needed to think of a way to get onto the bus. There was no way she was going to drive away from this. She had to board the vehicle to help her friend.

Swinging around the bus to the other side where the doors were located, Clarke signalled for Raven to open them.

“What are you doing now?” Raven asked curiously. She didn’t sound confused because she was used to Clarke doing stupid shit by now. It was one of the main reasons why she had joined the LAPD bomb squad instead of following her mom into medicine. She regularly got to do dumb things.

“I’m going to get on,” Clarke called out.

“What? Don’t be stupid.”

“I need to be on there with you,” she replied stubbornly. “This is my fault and I can help.”

“How is this your fault? Did you plant the bomb?”

“No, but it’s on your bus because of me.”

Clarke sped up so she was just in front of the bus and leaned over to open the passenger door. Then she hit the brake pedal and watched as the bus took out the door. She heard several screams come from the bus as the door broke off, but she couldn’t concentrate on that now. Lashing a piece of rope she had in her door pocket around the steering wheel to the driver’s seat headrest to keep it straight, Clarke looked back up at Raven. “Can you get the bus close to me?”

Nodding, Raven steered the vehicle so it was just a couple of inches away from the jeep. The rope would only hold the jeep steady for a few seconds but it was enough for Clarke to shimmy across the front of her care and then step carefully and calmly onto the bus, where her presence was greeted with screams and a faceless cry of, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Two seconds later, her jeep careered across the freeway and crashed into barriers, it’s hood buckling up under the pressure of the impact.

“You’re fucking insane,” Raven said tautly. Her hands were clasping the steering wheel so tight that her skin was drawn tightly over her knuckles.

“You didn’t think I was going to leave you to handle this alone did you?”

Raven let out a brief bark of laughter before she tilted her head close to Clarke. “You need to calm the passengers.”

Turning towards them, Clarke could see fifteen or so faces staring up at her in a mixture of shock and fear. She pulled her badge from her jacket pocket. “LAPD,” she said. “Sorry for the unscheduled boarding. Everything should be fixed in a little while and we’ll get you back on your way.”

She spun back to face Raven, who said, “That’s all you’re going to tell them.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell them there’s a bomb on the bus!”

Raven shook her head but only said, “So what’s the plan?”

“Stay on the freeway, keep it above 50mph. I need to check in with Lincoln.”

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Clarke called the office.

“Don’t tell me you’re not coming in,” Lincoln rasped down the phone, his voice even deeper than usual. “If I dragged my sorry ass in then you can, too.”

“We have a problem.”

Clarke could almost see him pulling his head up off his desk and sitting straighter as he digested her words. “What is it?”

“Emerson. He’s still alive and he planted a bomb on Raven’s bus.”

“Raven? Your Raven?”

“Do you know another Raven? Yes, my Raven. It’s been activated and will explode if we go below 50mph.”

“ _Fuck!_ ”

She huffed out a laugh at that. “Tell me about it. He wants his money. I need you to tell Captain Kane. I’m going to need a clear path in front of us so we can the bus moving at this speed.”

“You’re on the bus?”

“Long story.”

“I’ll get Kane to clear out traffic.”

“Good.”

“Have you seen the-”

Before Lincoln could finish his sentence, there was a commotion behind her. Turning around, Clarke saw that one of the passengers had a gun in his hand and was pointing it at her.

“Got to go, Lincoln.”

“Stop the bus,” the passenger said. He was around her age with shifty eyes and sharp nose. Sweat beaded the milky white skin on his forehead. He looked like the kind of guy who got into trouble a lot.

“I’m not here for you,” Clarke said calmly. “Whatever it is you’ve done, I don’t care. I’m here for something completely unrelated.”

“How do I know that?”

Clarke eased her hand into the inside pocket of her jacket. “Look, I’m tossing my badge away,” she said, throwing it onto an empty seat at the front. “No one is police here. Now put the gun down.”

He looked torn, like he wanted to believe her, but couldn’t quite let him do so. She continued to meet his gaze steadily so he knew she wasn’t a threat. Then one of the passengers to the side made a sudden movement and his arm jumped. There was an explosive noise that made her ears ring and had other passengers screaming and ducking for cover. She heard a grunt of pain come from the side of her but she didn’t have time to look, instead springing forward towards the gun wielder.

However, before she could get to him, another passenger was there. His muscled arm pulled back and punched the shooter in the fact, sending him buckling back over a seat. The guy followed, pinioning his arms and calling out to her in a deep voice, “Handcuff him to the seat!”

“Done,” she panted out, slapping the handcuffs around the shooter’s wrist and locking him to the metal bar that ran across the top of the seat. “Thanks,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face and looking up at her helper.

_Shit_ , she thought as lust washed through. This really was not the time to develop an out of the blue attraction, but the guy was gorgeous; all tawny freckled skin, black curls and dark brown eyes. His arms and shoulders were impressively huge as were his hands as he held one out to help her up.

“The drivers been shot,” a panicked voice from the front of the bus said, dragging Clarke’s attention away from the attractive guy.

“Raven!” Clarke called, marching back up to the front where her friend was slumped over the steering wheel.

“I’m trying to keep it above 50,” Raven wheezed out. “But I can’t feel my left leg.”

“Crawl down and keep your hand on the gas pedal,” Clarke barked out to pale looking kid with googles on his head before turning his friend and barking, “You keep that wheel steady!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Is Raven going to be alright?”

She turned to find her hot helper at her shoulder. “She’s been shot. Can you help me pull her out from behind the wheel?”

“Sure,” he said, nudging her aside and lifting Raven up in his arms as carefully as he could. However, she still screamed out in pain.

“Put her on the long seat there,” Clarke ordered. “I need to check the gunshot.”

“You a doctor, too?” he asked in amusement.

“I was pre-med,” she said before turning her attention to Raven. “You okay?”

“Can’t feel my leg,” Raven panted out. “Someone needs to drive the bus, Clarke.”

“On it,” the guy said.

“You need to keep it above 50mph,” Clarke added as he slid into the seat and shooed the two nerdy looking kids away.

He looked like he wanted to question why, but her mind was already back on Raven, who’d been shot in the back. It was right next to her spine, which would explain why she couldn’t feel one of her legs. Her nerves could easily have been damaged. Ideally, she needed to get to the hospital now, but that was currently impossible. First things first, she needed to staunch the bleeding.

“Anyone have a scarf or cardigan or something?” she called out.

“Here!” A young woman with blonde hair came up and handed over both. She had a uniform on with a name tag that read ‘Harper’.

“Thanks Harper,” Clarke said with a smile. “Can you hold her steady while I bandage up this up?”

“Yeah.”

Clarke worked efficiently. A lifetime of living with her mom and helping out at the hospital during her vacations had meant she had basic skills like this pretty much ingrained in her mind.

“I’m going to get you to the hospital as soon as possible, okay?” she said to Raven when she finished.

Raven clutched her head tightly. “Deal with the bomb first,” she said quietly so Harper wouldn’t hear. “And then worry about me.”

“I’ll get you out of this,” Clarke promised.

“Just make sure Bellamy doesn’t crash the bus,” Raven said with a wobbly smile.

Her phone rang as she got back up from her knees. It was Kane.

“What’s going on, Griffin?” he barked.

She moved back up to the front of the bus, away from too many prying ears. “There’s a bomb on bus 2525, sir. We need to keep it above 50mph or the bomb goes off.”

Out of the side of her eye, she could see Bellamy’s head snap towards her.

“Lincoln said,” Kane replied. “How many passengers do you have?”

Turning around to face them, she did a quick count. “Thirteen including the driver. But we have a problem. The driver’s been shot.”

“Shot? How?”

“There was a misunderstanding with one of the passengers.”

Kane swore under his breath. “Okay, I’m getting a team scrambled. They’ll be with you in five.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy’s low voice said urgently.

“Hang on, sir,” she said to Kane before turning her attention to Bellamy. “What is it?”

“We have a problem,” he said, gesturing up ahead where the freeway was blocked with traffic.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” she cursed.

“Should I get off at this exit?” he asked, pointing to slip road that was almost at the side of them.

“Yes.”

“Hang on,” he called out as he locked the wheel to the right.

Clarke stumbled and flung out a hand, catching onto Bellamy’s shoulder, her hand curling into the top of his t-shirt and clinging on as the bus careered across the road, turning sharply to make the exit. Car horns blared behind them as they cut over one road and just about made the exit, the side of the bus clipping the slip road barrier as they sped past.

“I meant you, too,” he said with a small smile as she righted herself once they were straight again and let go of him.

She shot him an exasperated look and out the phone back up to her ear. “You still there, sir?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“We had to leave the freeway. There was traffic. We’re in the city and I need you to clear the roads ASAP.”

She could hear Kane barking orders out before he said to her, “We’re going to get to you as fast as we can, but in the meantime can you head to Interstate 110. It’s not open yet.”

“We’ll get on it,” Clarke said, hanging up the phone. “Raven, you got a map on here. We need to get to the 110.”

“In the pocket at the side,” she replied and Bellamy fumbled for it and then passed it over to Clarke.

She spread the map on the dashboard. “We need to get to the 110 with the clearest route possible.”

“There’s a bomb on the bus?” Bellamy asked quietly.

“Yep.”

“You need to tell the passengers?”

“They’ll panic.”

“They’re going to start panicking sooner rather than later anyway. They aren’t going to understand why we can’t just slow the bus down and let them off.”

She wanted to smile at the use of ‘we’ when Bellamy himself was nothing more than a passenger. However, she appreciated the sentiment. It made her feel as if she wasn’t in this alone.

As if sensing her wavering will on the matter, Bellamy leaned in close and whispered, “Look, if we’re going to get through this then it needs to be together.”

He had a point. So far the rest of the passengers were still shaken up by Murphy’s actions, which has given her some leeway, but that wasn’t going to last much long. She gave him a small nod in agreement because he was right and then turned to face the rest of the passengers. As expected her announcement that there was a bomb on the bus was met with shock and fear, and with hysteria by one tourist with floppy hair who was obviously from Smalltown, USA. Clarke struggled to get her voice heard over the general hubbub of noise.

“Let Clarke explain,” Bellamy yelled into the driver’s microphone and the bus fell into silence.

“We’re going to get onto an unused freeway,” Clarke said. “That should make it easy for us to maintain the necessary speed until the rest of the Bomb Disposal Unit can come up with a plan.”

An uneasy quiet fell on the bus, which at least allowed Clarke to turn back towards the front and concentrate on helping Bellamy weave in and out of the traffic.

“Come on, Kane,” Clarke muttered. The quicker they had a clear path the quicker she could relax and start thinking up ways to defuse the bomb.

Then suddenly they were surrounded by flashing blue lights and Clarke could let out the breath she hadn’t even realised she was holding. Bellamy, too, seemed as if a weight had been lifted on his shoulder. They’d needed something to go their way and this came at just the right time.

With their police escort, they were able to get onto the unused freeway with no further hold-ups. Her hand clapped onto Bellamy’s shoulder as they made the turn and had nothing but clear asphalt ahead of them. He lifted one hand off the steering wheel to pat her hand comfortingly and they shared a brief smile of relief before the rest of their problems came flooding back.

“We need to get Raven off the bus,” he said in a quiet voice.

Looking over her shoulder at her friend, Clarke could see how pale Raven looked. She was wincing every now and again in pain. Catching Bellamy’s eye, she gave him another miniscule nod. He opened the bus doors for her as she went over to usher Kane closer.

“Good timing, Griffin,” Kane said. “We have Emerson on the phone. He’s asking to speak to you.”

“Patch him through to my phone.”

Her phone rang briefly before she pressed to accept the call and raised it to her ear. “Clarke,” Emerson said smugly. “You’ve done well to get the bus this far. I’m impressed.”

She suppressed the urge to snap back at him and instead calmly asked, “Why are you talking to me and not the negotiators.”

“I hate negotiators. They always think they understand you when they don’t. I don’t have time to get bogged down with someone who thinks he gets my motivations. I want my money and then I’ll be on my way.”

Emerson had a point. Jaha was undoubtedly good at his job, but did act as if he understood everything around him to a better degree than anyone else. Clarke disliked having to deal with him.

“Let the passengers off the bus and I’ll make sure you get your money.”

“I would love to believe you, I really would,” he said. “But if the elevator incident taught me anything then it’s not to underestimate you. When I get my money, you can get the passengers off.”

“I need to get one passenger off.”

“Your friend, the driver?” Emerson queried and Clarke frowned a little at the question.

“Yes, the driver was shot and she needs medical attention immediately.”

“Why should I care?”

“Do this as a sign of goodwill. It will go a long way in letting us believe that you mean what you say and get you that money quicker.”

Emerson gave a long suffering sigh over the phone. “Okay, I’ll give you this. Just the bus driver, though, Clarke. Anyone else gets off and I’ll blow the bus up.”

“Got it.”

Ending the call, Clarke turned towards Bellamy, who tilted his head in enquiry. “That was the bomber.”

“You take personal calls from him?”

She rolled her eyes at his attempt at humour but couldn’t help the little smile that curled up the corners of her lips. The lame attempt at a joke had the required effect of relaxing her taut shoulders a little. She’d been on edge ever since Anya’s bus had blown up and she hadn’t realised just how tightly wound her body was until that moment.

“He’s going to let Raven off.”

“Yeah?” Bellamy said with a grin. “That’s great news.”

Her smile got larger as they gazed at each other for a little longer than necessary. Pulling her eyes away from his and shaking her head slightly, Clarke turned towards Raven. “How you doing, Raven?”

“I’ve been better,” her friend bit out.

“Well, you’re getting out of here.”

“About damn time.”

Harper squeezed her shoulder in support as Clarke moved back to the front doors and ushered Kane back over. “We’re getting the driver off,” she said. “She’s taken a gunshot wound close to the spine.”

Kane nodded his acknowledgement.

“How close can you get this bus to that platform?” Clarke asked Bellamy.

“As close as we need to be.”

It was a delicate game. Every time Bellamy got the bus close enough, they’d hit a manhole or something that would have them careering away.

“You got this,” she said encouragingly and Bellamy gave her a tight nod before his braced his arms once more, a vein straining against his bicep as he moved the unwieldy bus back over to the platform.

This time they got close enough for Kane to slide a ramp over the two moving vehicles. Sliding an arm under Raven’s shoulder and with Harper’s help, Clarke got Raven up.

“Try not to get blown up,” Raven said as she was passed over to the waiting cops.

“How about the rest of the hostages?” Kane asked, his hair ruffling magnificently in the wind.

“Emerson only agreed to Raven.”

“We could try and get the others off.”

Clarke pointed up to the fleet of news helicopters that were following their every move in the sky. “I don’t want to risk it.”

“Okay,” Kane said determinedly, “I’ll get rid of those helicopters and then we’ll find another way to get you all off.”

“Concentrate on catching him. The sooner you get him, the quicker we can get off.”

“Lincoln’s working on it.”

Nodding, Clarke gestured for the ramp to be eased back but before it could be retracted, a mass of floppy brown hair pushed past her.

“No,” She yelled. “No one else.”

“I need to get off,” the man said. “I can’t be here anymore.”

It was the tourist and Clarke thanked her lucky stars that the rest of her hostages were hardened Angelenos. “Sir, you have to remain-”

But he wasn’t listening to her. Instead, he reached out his hand to one of the waiting cops and was in the process of being lifted across when the small localised device went off. The ramp collapsed in a flash of light and dust and Kane’s platform vehicle skittered off to the side.

Clarke darted out and tried to grab a hold of the man’s t-shirt but her fingers only closed around air. Anguished, she peered out of the bus to see the tourist’s body laying listlessly on the asphalt. Her ears rang with the noise of the small bomb and it took her several moments before she could hear Bellamy frantically calling her name.

“I’m okay,” she replied, turning to face his concerned gaze.

Looking over Bellamy’s shoulder, Clarke could see the scared faces of the rest of the passengers. “We’re going to get you all off, I promise,” she said firmly. “But I need you to listen to me and follow my orders. I can’t make sure you all get home if we don’t work together.”

She made sure to look at each of the hostages individually and was happy to note their agreement. Her phone buzzed in her pocked and she pulled it out to answer.

“Tut tut, Clarke. I said only the driver.”

“I didn’t know he was going to try and get off, too. If you just let the rest of the hostages off then we wouldn’t have these misunderstandings.”

“That wasn’t the deal. Anyone else tries to get off and I’ll blow the bus completely next time,” Emerson said before hanging up.

Clarke pulled in a couple of deep breaths. She hated how Emerson appeared to be a couple of steps ahead of them all the time.

“How did he know the tourist was trying to get off?” Bellamy asked her, once she had turned back to the front.

“There’s a load of new helicopters following us. I presume this is being streamed continuously on the news channels.”

“Hmm…maybe,” Bellamy said.

She gave him a sharp look. “You don’t agree?”

“I think there would have to a few seconds delay if he’s following on a newsfeed, but the response of the bomber was instantaneous.”

Letting his words sink in, Clarke thought about how Emerson had seemed to be already aware that Raven had been shot. It wasn’t something that could have been on the news channels. Kane would not have released any information about the bus or the hostages while the operation to free them all was still in progress.

Her eyes scanned the front of the bus carefully. Then she saw it. A camera that was hidden slightly behind the official bus CCTV. It was a small device but placed in such a way that it could see everything happening.

“He’s got a camera on here,” she whispered to Bellamy.

“It makes sense.”

“No, he does I can see it.”

To his credit, Bellamy kept his eyes on the road rather than scan desperately around him. “Where?”

“Up to your right,” she said and his eyes flicked briefly in that direction but otherwise he made no other movement that could give away what they were talking about.

“We need to try and break the feed,” he said.

“Yeah, but without letting on that we know about its existence. If the feed goes black then he’ll blow the bus immediately.”

“Agreed. Monty might be able to help you.”

“Monty?”

“Asian kid. The one who was keeping the steering wheel steady when Raven got shot. He’s good with technology.”

“You know everyone on this route?” she asked.

“I ride this bus to school every day. You tend to see the same people. Plus Monty goes to the same college as me.”

He had seemed older than her by at least a few years, but he was still in college. “You’re in school?”

Shooting her an amused glance, he replied, “Grad school. Now go and ask Monty for help.”

Tamping down her curiosity about Bellamy, she walked down the bus to where Monty sat with his friend with the goggles.

“If I tell you that the bomber has a camera planted on the bus and so can see our every move, what would you say to help us get around this?”

Monty looked surprised and then thoughtful for a moment. “I take it I can’t look at it?” she shook her head and he sighed a little. “Then there’s only one thing to do. You need to hack into the feed, record a period of time and then have that play over a loop.”

“Okay,” she said and pulled her phone out, keeping her back towards the camera. “Kane, Emerson has a camera on the bus. He can see everything we do here. It’s why he was able to activate that small device and blow up the doors.”

There was a slight pause and then Kane asked, “What do you need?”

She outlined what Monty had told her.

“Jacopo Sinclair should be able to do that,” Kane said. “Give us a couple of minutes to figure it out and we should be able to sort that out.”

Twenty minutes later and the rescue mission was on the way. They had at least five minutes of them all being still and subdued on the bus that was being played in a continuous loop over the feed Emerson had set up.

Bellamy was determinedly driving the bus, refusing to swap with Clarke when she tried to suggest it so that he could get off the bus easily with the rest of the passengers. Instead, he gave her an unimpressed look and simply said, “I’ll get off when you do.”

“You’re not a cop,” she argued. “This is literally my job.”

“And some of these hostages are kids from my area. Harper has been staying over at my house with my sister since she was seven. If you think I’m going to get off before any of them do then you are insane.”

She sighed and added stubborn along with insanely attractive, intelligent and brave to the list of adjectives she was compiling about Bellamy Blake.

Suddenly, it was just the two of them left on the bus. “C’mon,” she said, as she jammed the gas pedal down with a wench he’d found in the driver’s door pocket. “Your turn now.”

“Together,” he said, sliding out from behind the wheel and taking her hand.

She nodded at that. It would be a fitting end to the adventure as he’d been by her side for much of it. Giving her the support she’d needed to make sure the bus and its passengers remained in one piece.

Grasping his hand tightly in hers, they stepped onto the ramp together and were about to step across to the moving platform where Kane awaited them when her phone began to ring.

“Shit,” she said as she pulled it out of her pocket and saw that it was Emerson. “We need to get off this thing now.”

Emerson’s camera would show her not reacting to his call which would arouse his suspicions immediately and she knew he’d blow the bus without hesitation.

She kicked desperately at the ramp.

“What are you doing?” Bellamy cried.

“We need to get away from the bus now. That’s Emerson on the phone. He’s going to know the feed is a hoax.”

His eyes widened and he began to kick at the ramp, too. Within seconds they’d dislodged it but it was now unstable and it slid off the moving platform too, causing them to fall to their knees at the impact.

Bellamy’s arms twined around her. “Tuck yourself into me,” he breathed into her ear and she did as she said, allowing his larger frame to engulf her.

She could hear the metal of the ramp squealing as they spun out of control over the tarmac. Her breath hitched as she tumbled backwards and Bellamy’s weight hit her. However, somehow they managed to stay on the metal sheet as they slid over the disused freeway, coming to a sudden stop just as an almighty explosion ripped through the air. Emerson must have blown the bus up, but it no longer mattered because everyone was off.

A feeling of sheer relief washed over her. They had done it! Between her and Bellamy they had managed to keep everyone one that bus alive despite all the odds.

Laughter bubbled up her throat as the joy of the moment swept through her. Clarke clutched onto Bellamy’s shoulders even tighter than she had before and buried her face in his neck. The solid weight of him above her and the warmth that radiated off his skin had her feeling more alive that she thought she had any right to feel right at this moment.

He lifted his head to look at her. “You okay?” he asked, brushing her hair out from her face so he could see her better.

She grinned up at him. “Never better. Any injuries.”

“Only sore knees from when we hit the ramp.”

“I can’t believe we survived that,” she said.

“Yeah, all thanks to you.”

“All thanks to _us_. We make one hell of a team.”

“We really do,” Bellamy said.

He made as if to lean down towards her but hesitated, an unsure look on his face. Twining her arms up around his neck, Clarke tangled her fingers into his curls and pulled his face to hers. She leaned up slightly and pressed her lips against his.

They were so lost in a series of deep, drugging kisses that by the time Kane came upon them, he had to poke Bellamy in the shoulder several times to gain their attention.

 


End file.
